PersonalANTy Reboot
by FashionRox669
Summary: When Olive decides she's not good enough, she changes her whole personality. However, one big thing happens that not even new Olive would ever expect. [Because I'd rather not people think it's anything else, this is a FOLIVE and it is a ONESHOT!]
1. For an ANTist

_**[So, I have a note for you! I've changed ages for this fanfic.**_

**Ages:_ The ANTs are 15. The entire series has taken place, but the ANTs are 15 and the big-kids are 17/18. Does that make sense? K, well the ANTs have always been 15. Does that make sense? Ah, you'll get it when you read it._**

_**Also, I know Olive's worn make-up before, but in this, she hasn't. And Fletcher and Chyna never broke up.]**_

* * *

**Olive's P.O.V.: **"I just wanna let you know, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," Chyna quoted. "And that is _exactly _what he said."

I sat cross-legged on the ANT Farm sofa after lunch on Thursday. Chyna was telling me what happened on her last date with Fletcher. I blew my bangs out of my face. Sometimes I regretted getting that haircut.

This was the first time I'd heard they're dating. I was kind of pissed that she told Lexi before me. But, I'm not going to show it.

"...and he clung to me all the way down the hall. I swear he's part suction-cup."

I've never told anyone, but I like Fletcher. Correction, _love_. Well, I did tell in Australia, but everyone thought I meant it platonically or that my brain was all screwed up from the heat.

Chyna said something about a really cute yet off beat song. I just nodded. I stopped really paying attention to what she was saying about five minutes ago.

I occasionally wondered what he saw in her. Don't get me wrong, she's amazing. She's talented, sexy, decisive, and clever. But so am I. Right?

Am I?

No.

I'm just the girl that answers all the damn questions no one even asks.

_{ANT Farm}_

**Chyna's P.O.V.:** It was five minutes after the bell rang Friday morning and Olive wasn't at school yet. She'd never been late or absent. It was starting to worry me.

A girl walked into the ANT Farm. She was wearing UGGs, dark-wash denim short-shorts, and a coal black t-shirt that showed her belly and lavender bra perfectly. And, yes I'm looking, no homo, it was a very big bra indeed.

She was fairly pale. Her hair was straight, long, blonde, and in a pony-tail. There were also hot-pink streaks around her head.

No... Wait... It can't be...

It was Olive.

"Olive?" I called. She looked at me with eyes outlined in black with pink eye-shadow. She looked like one of Fletcher's amazing paintings of me took a crap on her face. "What did you do to your... EVERYTHING?"

"I makeovered myself," she said.

"Why?"

She leaned into me and grabbed the Pop-Tart I was eating. I hadn't had time for breakfast that morning. She took a big bite of it, made a really grossed out face, and spit the bite onto the floor. She handed it back to me and scraped the rest off her tongue. "Ew."

"What's wrong with it?"

"Interesting Factoid: Pop-Tarts will..." She slapped her forehead. "Face palm. I mean, it's grape. I hate grape."

"Great... But you never answered my question. Why did you change?"

She opened her mouth like she was about to say something when Fletcher walked over. She then lunged herself at him and wrapped him in a hug. "Fletcher!" She squealed, over dramatically, "I haven't seen you all weekend!"

"OK." I was so confused. "Why the hell are you hugging my boyfriend?"

"No reason," Olive replied, almost hurt. "I was just happy to see Fletcher."

Apparently Fletcher was happy to see her, too, because he looked like he just met Aquaman. I crossed my arms. "You could be happy without physical contact, though."

"It's fine," Fletcher said and pecked me on the lips. "She is, after all, my best friend." Olive scowled slightly. "Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you were going to Paisley's party tonight. She invited me and said I could bring a friend."

"I'm going," Olive said, before I could even open my mouth.

"Me too," I added.

"Great! See you there." And with that, Fletcher walked back to his easel.


	2. What Just HapANT?

**_[Did you lurve the last chapter? Obviously, or you wouldn't be reading this one. I have to warn you, this one sucks and may creep a bit higher than the _T_ rating I've given this tale.]_**

**Olive's P.O.V.:** I walked into Paisley's party. My shorts were hurting my butt and the music was hurting my ears. It wasn't that loud, but my ears have been very sensitive since I almost lost my memory. It was part of my plan, though. My not exactly well thought out plan. Correction: My not at all thought out plan.

I went to find Chyna and Fletcher. On my way a grabbed a cup of punch. I wasn't thirsty, but I needed something to do. I found my friends making out in the corner. I waited until they finished and went and joined them.

"Hey!"

"Hey!" They replied in unison.

"You're late," Fletcher said. "We were looking for you!"

"In each other's _mouths_?"I retorted. New Olive is kind of a bitch.

Chyna rolled her eyes. "I'm getting some food. Either of you want anything?"

Fletcher placed his order. He just wanted some punch.

"Olive." Fletcher turned to me after Chyna walked away. "Why'd you change?"

I didn't want to explain my plan, especially to Fletcher, and he didn't have a Pop-Tart, so I just stood there awkwardly until Chyna came back over with a cookie in one hand and a glass of punch in the other. She handed the glass to Fletcher and he took a gigantic gulp.

And then they went back to making out.

Not wanting to watch them swallow themselves, I went to find the sofa. I sat down and continued to drink my punch. This was going to be a long night.

**Fletcher's P.O.V.:** I woke up in a pumpkin colored room. It was still dark out. I checked the clock. Half past midnight. The party was still going.

My head was pounding like Chyna was playing her drums inside of my brain.

I looked around. I was sitting on a bed in the center of the room. There was one window and a door. I stood up to leave.

"What the hell?" I yelled, noticing that I, in fact, had no clothes on. That apparently is a sound trigger in this haunted house for the bump beside me in the bed to rise.

Oh. My. Freaking. God.

**Lexi's P.O.V.: **Today I learned two things. The first is that I look magnificent in slate grey. The second thing is that Paisley doesn't like to have fun. She told me I couldn't spike the drinks. But I did anyway.

I didn't get all the drinks, though. No! I only added my special mix of Red Viper and rum after I saw Chyna coming up to get punch. Man, would she get a punch.

You can only imagine how bad I felt when she handed the punch to her artist boyfriend. I mean, she didn't even take a sip of it!

I thought about stopping him when he went over and started flirting with that blonde chic, Odette. But when he asked her into the bedroom, I figured, _Why not ruin three people's lives instead of just one?_ I think it would have been a lot better if we didn't have to turn the music up to the level of eardrum splitting to cover their noise, but I figure Chyna will be even more pissed that way.

There was one thing I wondered, though. Why was Olive being such an ass? Is she just oblivious? Naw, a genius like her wouldn't be that stupid. And I shouldn't be worried. I hate Chyna, after all, and the best way to get at someone is through their best friend.. And I've done worse to Paisley.

**_[_In Case You're Stupid:_ I will explain to you what just happened. Fletcher was drunk so he slept with Olive. Olive, however, was completely sober.]_**


	3. Something wANT Wrong

**_[If you read this, I _really_ want to know what you think should happen next. I have no inspiration right now. And sorry if this chapter sucks, I wrote it in half an hour at ten o'clock at night.]_**

**Olive's P.O.V.:** "What the hell?" I heard Fletcher yell, and I sat upright in the orange bed. Interesting Factoid: The color orange is named after the fruit.

As far as you're concerned, I was horrendously drunk last night, and the only reason my head is throbbing is because of that fact. I am unaware of any activities I may have partaken in and I am unsure as to the reason I am naked in a foreign space at 12:31 in the morning.

I took the covers and shielded my boobs. I guess I'm still innocent.

Fletcher massively confused, so I filled him in. As far as he knows, my eidetic memory works even when I'm hung-over.

"The punch was probably spiked." I grabbed the covers right off the bed as I stood up. My clothes were on his side of the bed. I walked over and took them. "We kind of..." I trailed off.

"I know." Fletcher said. He looked like he just met the man that ran over his dog. Or his sister.

"We did nothing wrong." You did nothing wrong. "We were drunk." You were drunk.

"Explain that to Chyna! Tell her that her best friend and boyfriend fucked! I want to hear from her that we did NOTHING WRONG!" Fletcher screamed. People in Africa shielded their ears.

I shrunk to the floor. Fletcher was never that hostile to anyone.

I threw my clothes on and ran back into the party to find Chyna. I couldn't tell her, though. What do I say? Certainly not, "Oh, your insanely hot and drunk boyfriend and I, who was completely alcohol free, slept together last night! Hope you're not mad considering you're still a virgin!" With that I just walked right out of Paisley's house and into the night air.

_{ANT Farm}_

Thirty minutes later I was still sitting on Paisley's front porch. I planned to stay there until morning. I didn't feel like walking the two blocks home. After all, it'd be really hard to explain this to my parents.

Then the door opened and I started crying when I saw who was there.

It was Chyna.

"I know what happened," she said.

"Really?" I replied.

"Yea. More than you do, even."

"What do you mean?"

"I asked Paisley and Lexi if the punch was spiked. Lexi says only Fletcher's was."

"I'm so sor..."

"No you're not." Chyna's lips were pressed together and her mouth was a perfectly straight line. "If you were you wouldn't have done it in the first place."

I didn't respond. Everything she said was true, and arguing or apologizing didn't seem like it'd work right now.

"I'd be less pissed if I heard the story from you, not Fletcher, first." Chyna opened the door to Paisley's house.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because Fletcher told to save our relationship. If you told it'd be almost as good as not doing it. You'd admit you screwed up. Literally." She laughed, but nothing was funny. It almost made the situation worse. And then she went inside, leaving me on the porch with mascara running down my cheeks.


	4. Facing the ANTs

_**[OK, so this chapter is in Olive's POV until I say different, so yea. I may not update much now, because I have school, but I'll write as much as I can.**_

_**Also, if you read PregnANTcy, this chapter will be a bit like that.]**_

I sat in my room Sunday afternoon, the day after the party. After my little conversation with Chyna, I walked home and snuck into my room. Now I'm contemplating the best way to ask my parents if they can drive me to CVS to get some pregnancy tests.

I grabbed my iPod and turned it on. I put my music on shuffle and put the ear buds in my ears.

_Can't let one bad thing go and crush your ways; you got your epic wins 364 days_

I chucked my iPod at the wall. Ok, Ross. Tell me that after you sleep with your best friend's boyfriend.

I slowly walked into the family room. My mom was reading. I tapped her on the shoulder and she jumped.

"Oh, honey, you scared me! What do you need?"

I sighed. "Can you drive me to the drug store?"

"Sure! Or I can just get you what you want."

I shook my head violently. "No! I just need you to drive me there. You don't even have to go in."

"OK, then."

Ten minutes later I was at the check-out counter of CVS with a box of pregnancy tests in my hand. The extremely large, extremely southern woman behind the counter was staring at me like I was a dissected frog.

"This yours?" I nodded. "Teens..."

I scuffed my feet sheepishly until she handed me my bag. I bolted out the door.

"What'd you get, honey?" my mom asked when I climbed in the backseat of her car. "And why aren't you sitting up front?"

I didn't answer either of her questions and stayed quiet the whole ride home.

_{ANT Farm}_

I had mixed feelings walking into the ANT Farm Monday morning. I was happy that I decided to stop being slutty. My knee length skirt felt really nice. I was more elated, however, that I didn't have to tell Fletcher I was hosting a junior Quimby.

However, I still had to face my fellow classmates. I had only been in the school five minutes and had already been called things like, "Not-So-Virgin Olive Oil" and "House-wrecker".

So I headed to my usual spot in the corner of the ANT Farm at the computer.

Then Fletcher walked over.

"You were sober." Seriously, dude. I've had this conversation with everyone already. Can I just do SOMETHING in peace?

"Yea." Silence. "Where's Chyna?" I hadn't seen her that day.

Fletcher pointed to the sound booth in the back. I opened it up and joined my friend.

"I slept with your boyfriend," I said. Chyna looked at me. "And I can't tell you how sorry I am."

"And I can't tell you how many times I've heard you say this to me."

"I know I could apologize all day, and it won't make things better, but I'll try."

"He's not my boyfriend." Chyna looked me square in the eye. "I dumped him."

"Why?" I asked, but as soon as I said it I knew it was a stupid question. Chyna knew too, or just didn't feel like responding.

"Are you pregnant?" she asked after a moment of no sound.

"No."

"That's good. Do your parents know what happened?"

"No."

"That's good."

"Is it?"

"I guess."

I opened the door to leave the sound booth, but Chyna grabbed my arm to stop me.

"I lied," she said. "He dumped me."

"Why?" That wasn't a stupid question.

"You ask him."

And so I left the sound booth.

_**[OK, so, why did Fletcher dump Chyna? Seriously, I want to know. I'm lost. What do you think?]**_


	5. One ImportANT Question

_**[HEY! So I get two days off school for Hurricane Sandy, so I'm writing! I actually read all your 'Why Fletcher Dumped Chyna' suggestions, and some were really good. I didn't even think of some. So, I merged a few together. See if you can pick out yours!**_

_**Sorry this chapter took sooo long. I started it before Sandy and it's taken this long. School has been backing me up.]**_

And so I left the sound booth.

"Why?" I said as I walked over to Fletcher.

"Why what?"

"Why'd you dump Chyna?"

"Red Viper."

"What does a highly sugary drink have to do with anything?"

"It was a mix of alcohol and Red Viper."

I stood there a minute and three seconds. And then I thought about how clearly I remembered the party Chyna dragged me to on the first day she was at this school. Granted, I have an eidetic memory, but it was oddly clear. More than usual. Then it me. "You remember."

"Almost everything."

"So what?"

"It was..." He trailed off.

"It was," I said and nodded. He shot me a wayward glance.

"Are you pregnant?"

"No."

"I guess I was also scared you had a mini me in 'there'." He made some bizarre gestures around my abdomen and I stifled a smile.

"How'd Chyna take it when you dumped her?"

"Could've been worse. Could've been better." Oh God. I hope we're not going to be all vague now. "Anyway, it's all weird to talk about this here. Wanna talk later? IHOW at three?"

I nodded. "I'll be there."

{ANT Farm}

I breezed through the rest of the day feeling both elated and like an ass-hole. I had a date with Fletcher. This could go one of 3,627 ways. Only 1,093 of those ways are positive. I hope it's one of those.

After school I sat cross legged on my bed writing down the rules of the friend code and crossing off any I'd broken.

̶T̶h̶o̶u̶ ̶s̶h̶a̶l̶l̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶d̶a̶t̶e̶ ̶a̶ ̶f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶'̶s̶ ̶c̶u̶r̶r̶e̶n̶t̶ ̶c̶r̶u̶s̶h̶.̶ ̶E̶v̶e̶r̶.̶ ̶U̶n̶d̶e̶r̶ ̶a̶n̶y̶ ̶c̶i̶r̶c̶u̶m̶s̶t̶a̶n̶c̶e̶s̶.̶

̶T̶h̶o̶u̶ ̶s̶h̶a̶l̶l̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶d̶a̶t̶e̶ ̶a̶ ̶f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶'̶s̶ ̶e̶x̶-̶c̶r̶u̶s̶h̶ ̶u̶n̶t̶i̶l̶ ̶o̶n̶e̶ ̶w̶h̶o̶l̶e̶ ̶m̶o̶n̶t̶h̶ ̶a̶f̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶c̶r̶u̶s̶h̶ ̶h̶a̶s̶ ̶p̶a̶s̶s̶e̶d̶.̶

̶T̶h̶o̶u̶ ̶s̶h̶a̶l̶l̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶d̶a̶t̶e̶ ̶a̶ ̶f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶'̶s̶ ̶e̶x̶ ̶u̶n̶t̶i̶l̶ ̶s̶i̶x̶ ̶m̶o̶n̶t̶h̶s̶ ̶a̶f̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶b̶e̶e̶n̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶e̶.̶

̶T̶h̶o̶u̶ ̶s̶h̶a̶l̶l̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶a̶ ̶o̶n̶e̶-̶n̶i̶g̶h̶t̶-̶s̶t̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶w̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶a̶ ̶f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶'̶s̶ ̶c̶u̶r̶r̶e̶n̶t̶ ̶c̶r̶u̶s̶h̶.̶ ̶E̶v̶e̶r̶.̶ ̶U̶n̶d̶e̶r̶ ̶a̶n̶y̶ ̶c̶i̶r̶c̶u̶m̶s̶t̶a̶n̶c̶e̶s̶.̶

̶T̶h̶o̶u̶ ̶s̶h̶a̶l̶l̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶a̶ ̶o̶n̶e̶-̶n̶i̶g̶h̶t̶-̶s̶t̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶w̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶a̶ ̶f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶'̶s̶ ̶e̶x̶-̶c̶r̶u̶s̶h̶ ̶u̶n̶t̶i̶l̶ ̶f̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶w̶h̶o̶l̶e̶ ̶m̶o̶n̶t̶h̶s̶ ̶a̶f̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶c̶r̶u̶s̶h̶ ̶h̶a̶s̶ ̶p̶a̶s̶s̶e̶d̶.̶

̶T̶h̶o̶u̶ ̶s̶h̶a̶l̶l̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶a̶ ̶o̶n̶e̶-̶n̶i̶g̶h̶t̶-̶s̶t̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶w̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶a̶ ̶f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶'̶s̶ ̶e̶x̶ ̶u̶n̶t̶i̶l̶ ̶a̶ ̶y̶e̶a̶r̶ ̶a̶f̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶b̶e̶e̶n̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶e̶.̶

Wow. That was a waste of my time.

I looked at the clock. Two thirty. I pulled on a pair of skinny jeans and a teal tank top. I threw a pink sweater with nerdy cats embroidered on the breast pocket over that, grabbed my purse, and began the walk to the trolley.

Fletcher was already at the trolley stop when I got there. We stood awkwardly until the trolley came and we got off at IHOW. He held the door open for me as I stepped inside.

"Welcome to the International House of Whatever," Lexi greeted us as we walked into the restaurant. "Today's theme is mustaches. Milk mustaches. Mustache pasta. Even mustache bean-bag chairs for you to sit in."

"This reminds me of my first date with Chyna," Fletcher said. "It started just like this."

I sighed. Fletcher really did just want to talk. He would never be over Chyna.

"It reminds me of when we tortured Lexi, but it backfired so badly." I laughed and Fletcher smiled.

"When I dumped Chyna, she didn't really take it well," Fletcher said, starting the conversation we came here to have. "She asked why but I didn't tell her. She'd blame it on you, and I didn't want you to be hurt anymore than you deserved. I mean, you really did mess up."

I heaved my shoulders, and Fletcher went on. "You're an awesome girl, Olive." He sat down on a bean-bag chair and I did, too. We both ordered a cup of hot-chocolate. The straws had little mustaches that when you drank from them sat on your upper lip. "And I have a question about that." Fletcher used his straw to blow a few things into his hot coco and swirl the whipped cream around. Then he passed it to me. Written in the foam was one question.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" He asked and the coco read. Why did I give the answer I did?

_**[K, so sorry this chap. is so short. But now I want your opinion on something else. What did Olive answer, and why?]**_


	6. I Just cAN'T Name This Chapter

_**[Ok, so guess what, guys. This may come as a shock to you, especially GiraffeLuvah64, ("...she's scared Fletcher will find out about the pregnancy.") and Anon, (Fletcher found out Olive was pregnant...") BUT OLIVE IS NOT F**KING PREGNANT!**_

_**Oh, let's play the 'how many times I've said this' game. Count with me, kids!**_

_**1. "**...**didn't have to tell Fletcher I was hosting a junior Quimby."**_

_**2. "Are you pregnant?"..."No."**_

_**3. "Are you pregnant?" "No."**_

_**But then, for a short period of time I thought, **_**Maybe I should make her pregnant**_**. But then I thought that was too cliché. Afterward I considered the,**_** She had an incurable STD and died. The end!**_** route, but figured that was too dark. So now I honestly have no idea where I'm going with this, so comment your suggestions!**_

_**Also, SO SORRY THIS IS LATE! OMG! I'VE BEEN BACKED UP WITH SCHOOL AND ME BEEING AN IDIOT (I'll tell you if you ask.) AND JUST ALL SORTS OF STUFF! SORRY! I'LL TRY AND UPDATE EVERY CHANCE I GET NOW!]**_

**Fletcher's P.O.V.:** I used my straw to blow a few things into my hot coco and swirl the whipped cream around. Then I passed it to Olive. Written in the foam was one question.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" I asked and the coco read.

Olive hung her head a bit, like she was ashamed. Her mouth moved but if she said something, I couldn't hear it.

"What'd you say? I asked.

She looked back up at me with big eyes. She said it again, only a little bit louder, but I could make it out this time.

"No."

I looked at her, apparently with confusion and hurt, because she began to explain why she answered that to me.

"Chyna's no where near over you. To date you I'd be betraying my best friend for the second time."

I nodded, as that made sense, when Olive asked me, "When did you stop liking Chyna?"

"Who says I have?"

Olive gestured around with her hands. "This."

"I still like her, but I love you."

Olive smirked. "Corny, yet cute." She got up from the table. "But honestly, Chyna is amazing. She loves _you_. Give her another shot." And then she left. And so did I.

**Chyna's P.O.V.:** I turned off my T.V. as my doorbell went off. I got up to open the door, but before I could fully stand, Fletcher was in the middle of my living room, ranting on about IHOW, apologizing, and coco.

"...and I'm sorry I screwed up- no pun intended- and asked her out and regretted nothing and..."

I grabbed Fletcher's shoulders and shook him back and forth. "What are you talking about?"

He collapsed on my sofa. "I don't know anymore."

Then I had an idea.

I walked over to Fletcher and sat down right next and very close to Fletcher. I leaned into his shoulder. "What exactly did you and Olive do?" I asked in a flirty tone.

"We..." he began to answer.

"Uh-uh. Don't tell me." I began to unbutton the front of my jacket. "Show me."

**Olive's P.O.V.:** So now I've checked off number one on my becoming a good friend again list- reuniting "Flyna". Step two- apologize to Chyna. For my date with Fletcher. I'm not a bad person. Really!

I walked up to Chyna's door after me and Fletcher's date. I didn't even bother to ring the doorbell as I opened her door.

And then I ran away screaming.

And crying.

Scrying.

_**[So, yea. Did you like my use of situational irony? Anyway, that's all I could come up with. I want to do something with Angus next... but no blatant Angive or Changus. So I still want your suggestions!**_

_**BTW this will get Folive-y-er later. Like I said, I know how I want this to wrap up, I just don't know how to get there. Ha-ha.]**_


End file.
